


If only it rained gold dust

by cain_kakushi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Cowboy AU, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Cowboys, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Spanking, Other tags to be added, Platonic Relationships, Spanking, Until they're not?, we'll have to see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29900616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cain_kakushi/pseuds/cain_kakushi
Summary: Western!Haikyuu AU - fanboy contribute to thesilver dagger aucollectionYamamoto Taketora, or Mad Tiger - anaspiringgunslinger that makes all women sigh… or so he'd like to be.Fukunaga Shoei, or Calico - his mysterious travel companion with an equally mysterious past.The very different duo travels together with little to no money, driven by poles apart value and objectives, to a goal that doesn't have a name but that will make them learn more than one lesson from each other.
Relationships: Fukunaga Shouhei & Yamamoto Taketora
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7
Collections: silver dagger au





	1. Stealing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yamadad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamadad/gifts), [BionicOtaku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BionicOtaku/gifts).



> Introductive chapter of the boys and how their friendship started. This was mostly a test that the lovely authors of the silver dagger au (I love u) encouraged me to write when I confessed my love for the gay cowboys, and I'm so happy to have chosen them!! They're both comfort characters of mine 🙏
> 
> I love writing about them, and I hope that you'll love reading of them in such a foreign setting!

Taketora took pride in his judgment. He could tell at first glance if someone meant trouble, and honest to God, his first impressions had never deceived him... until he met Calico, that is.

Whoever traveled alone with no weapon but a long knife strapped to their thigh clearly lacked brains, but that wasn’t the sole reason why Tora didn’t like the guy: Calico smiled too much, spoke too little, didn’t drink and was probably the biggest liar of the entire land. Apparently he was a _launderer_ , whatever the hell a launderer was doing in the desert, and he had no money, as if people didn’t need to get their britches cleaned. Worse than all, he started following Tora like a helpless puppy just because they were going in the same direction.

Taketora did not like him in the slightest.

He took pride in being a lonely outlaw, a feared opponent, the menacing wanderer with the quickest draw, and any of the old legendary gunslingers that he took inspiration from would have made a sieve out of Calico’s head...

Except that Tora wasn’t like these legends at all, no, he was of a different breed. The one he hoped women would love, possibly; so while having Mr Silence and his old horse tailing after him didn’t add intimidation points to his reputation, introducing Calico as his aide didn’t prove to be bad at all. The guy did actually know how to do laundry, he knew how to take care of weapons, he climbed high, he cut meat, he ran fast, and truthfully, having a silent sidekick that only took meals as payment was convenient.

Taketora could live with that.

Calico had no interest in stealing women from Tora, either. Sure, maybe he was a little too lean and a little too pale, but he was kind and soft spoken, something that younger girls may have liked if he actually _tried_ instead of spending his time tending to the horses. Taketora respected his self control, but didn’t understand it at all.

Clear as day, one was the opposite of the other, but when they laid on the ground and looked up at the starry sky, differences withered under the reality of things: they were just a small part of that Earth, two flecks of dirt drifting together to a destination that never drew near. The nights became longer, their laughter louder, and the distance between them, shorter. Getting locked in a bond was, after all, one of the biggest risks of sharing meals with someone else. 

Taketora was starting to like Calico, but there was a reason if the wannabe gunslinger traveled alone: his blessings had the habit to flee as soon as they graced him.

  
  


Laying in a foreign bed, sweaty curls stuck to his temples, mouth slightly agape - his companion wasn’t waking up that morning, making it his second day of deep sleep. Calico was sick, “one of the worst fevers I’ve seen” had said the doctor, and Tora couldn’t do anything about it but change the damp rag on his forehead. He was doing a poor job at it too, judging from the droplets running down Calico’s ears.

Tora had never prayed so hard for someone else. It was the least he could do when it was his fault if his partner wasn’t waking up: he should have ridden faster to the doctor’s house when he knew that Calico was feeling unwell, or even better, he should have pulled Calico out of the river instead of watching him dive four times.

The cold water **had** to be the reason he caught such a violent fever. Not even buying medicine and asking for forgiveness to the Almighty would save his friend, now. The rag in Tora’s hands fell down to the floor and he let it, at last abandoning all hope. He put his elbows on his knees and let his gaze be lost on the dusty floor until it all clouded. Pressing his palms over his eyes didn’t work as well as he hoped, but at least, he could pretend he never cried.

“I’m sorry.” He hiccuped, reaching for Calico’s pale hand to squeeze it lightly, only to find it unusually cold. Tora’s eyes widened in concern. “Calico… ?” He called his name through a dry throat, but to no avail. It couldn’t be, right? It wasn’t really happening, it wasn’t…

The chair tumbled to the floor behind Tora. His trembling hands couldn't bring him to shake Calico’s shoulders, and desperation made it impossible to tell if his partner was breathing or not. “Calico?!” He called again, cluelessly looking around the room: the doctor left for the morning, but what was he supposed to do now?! Riding his friend to another doctor? Was there another doctor at all?

Tora kneeled, this time not to pray but to rest his head on Calico’s shoulder. He couldn’t feel him, he couldn’t feel his breath, he couldn’t feel his heart. Miserably calling his name, Tora let tears run free to wet his partner’s shirt. 

"Don't leave me, please!” He pleaded, “It's all my fault-! If you go..." Tora caught himself before finishing the sentence. _I'll go too_? Was that what he was trying to say? 

That moment of hesitation crumbled in an instant. Of course he’d go with him.

“Go where…?”

Tora’s breathing hitched. Rising his gaze, he found Calico’s hooded eyes looking down at him. “You’re… you’re alive?” He asked, begging the Lord for it not to be an hallucination.

His partner hummed and smiled weakly, "You don't look really happy 'bout it..."

The faucet opened once more and rivers of tears rolled down Tora’s cheeks, meeting under his chin and dripping on the floor. He tried to stop them, but couldn’t: all of that anxious bitterness climbed out of his eyes at once, freeing his chest of a weight he didn’t realize was there.

"Please don't cry…" Calico’s voice was deep and kind, "I don't like when people cry."

"I'm not crying." Tora said while drying his snot on the sleeve of his shirt, "How… how are you feeling?"

"Sleepy."

"You slept for two whole days, how-?!"

"Two whole days?" Calico yawned, "Why?"

Tora stood and turned away from his partner. “A fever…” He furiously wiped at his face with his forearms, like a kid who desperately wanted to be seen as a grown up, and refused to meet Calico’s eyes until he deemed himself presentable. "You really don't remember what happened?"

The two stared at each other, Calico cocking his head to the side as he always did when he thought hard about something. "I…" Suddenly, his narrowed eyes opened in realization - "The river?"

Tora bit his lips and turned away again. Was he supposed to be mad at his partner? The carousel of emotions didn’t stop as he felt Calico grab his hand and squeeze as hard as he could. He felt mocked by that touch.

"I was reckless. It is not your fault,"

"Of course you were reckless!” Tora snatched his hand away from the kind hold, “There was no reason for you to dive that many times! These were… these were just _things_ , for fuck’s sake! You're far more important than things!"

"I disagree. We dropped gold, not things, and that would have gotten us in debt."

Silence fell heavy in the room. A line of gunpowder ignited in Tora’s body, ready to blow up whatever sense of reason was left, but he kept cool. He had to, as much as he wanted to smack some sense into his still feverish companion. 

"Oh, we are already in debt. Turns out that medicine for a fever isn't cheap around here.” Tora scoffed, cold and still jittery from nervousness. A hug, a punch - either would make him feel better, but he had no energy left. They had to leave and _fast_ , before he lost his mind to that dusty bedroom.

“Get a wiggle on and change your clothes. If we leave now we might not have to pay the doctor." He tossed his nicest set of clothes in Calico’s direction and then turned to look out of the window, spying for any sign of the doctor’s return.

His companion shifted on the bed, but other than taking off the blanket, there was no obedient rustling of fabric. "Leave me here." Calico whispered, his eyes locked on his bare knees. "I will pay for the doctor."

"Don't be ridiculous..." Tora caught sight of his partner’s reflection in the glass: Calico was looking in his direction, eyes more determined than ever. "Seriously? Is this it? You want me to go?"

"Yes, thank you for checking on me." He stretched down his shirt to cover the top of his thighs, frantically fidgeting with the hem, "And for not shooting me."

“You want me to go...” Without leaving a dollar behind? Without a goodbye, after all the tears he poured? Was that it, then? “Go to blazes, Calico.” And for his partner’s sake, Tora stormed away and out in the courtyard.

  
  


What do you do with deadweight if not leave it behind? 

It was the natural course of action. Shoei - Calico’s real name, for all that mattered - looked down at his knees again and sighed in relief. He couldn’t continue getting Taketora in trouble like that, he was too grateful in his regards to let him lose even more money when he was so close to the city. Shoei could still hope that the doctor would hire him for something, anything, even heavy work if it was needed; he would adapt, like he had done many times before.

Shoei got his slacks on through tears, but they dried quickly: he couldn’t afford crying, because if he weeped now, then he was never going to stop. He knew that following Tora wouldn’t be forever, and it was the time to come to terms with the matter. Maybe if the doctor was kind enough, Shoei would have the money to replace his boots: the laces were frayed and one had a hole in its side…

He erased that little hope and tossed his dirty shirt on the bed, moving to button the fresh one. After all, men weren’t all as kind as Tora had been with him.

Shoei got his belt on and threw a quick glance at the chair in front of the bed, where his stag knife rested. With the way it shined under the sunlight, Tora had surely polished it while he was still asleep, though he probably would never admit it.

“Good, you’re ready.” His friend was leaning against the doorframe, hat and bandana on as he was ready to leave. “Looks like I won’t have to haul you away butt naked.”

Shoei couldn’t look at him anymore. His ears were burning from shame and regret as he tucked the knife in its scabbard and stood there, shoulders hunched, hoping that Tora would walk away for real, this time. Instead he only got closer, uncomfortably close, and Shoei prepared for the worst.

“Do you really want to repay him?"

"I will."

“And how do you intend on doing that, exactly?”

“Work.”

Tora sighed - not hurt, just uncharacteristically calm, as if he had a plan of some sort. That was preoccupying, since he rarely had one. "Listen, I want to repay him too, but we'd have to sell our horses. Then what? And… and I don't want that old man touching you." He shook his head and grabbed Shoei’s wrist. "Well, nevermind, I won’t hear a _no_ from you today. Come."

Why did that goodbye have to hurt so bad? Tora’s hold wasn’t harsh, but Shoei still felt a pang of pain up in his chest. Of all the farewells he said, that was taking too long - so much, in fact, that his strong resolution began to falter. 

“We should not…” Shoei dug his heels on the floor. "I won’t go like this, it's like stealing. Leave me behind."

Their eyes locked. If there was going to be screaming, if there was going to be a blow directed at him, Shoei couldn’t care: he needed to lose himself in the amber of Tora’s eyes to never forget the color, and so he did for what he thought was going to be his last time.

Until the world turned upside down.

" **This** is stealing." Tora announced, adjusting Shoei’s unstable position over his shoulder. His still groggy senses didn’t make him fully aware of what was happening until he found himself staring down at the floor; it still took him a while until he gasped and began kicking, only to be held tighter by Tora. "Hey, I'm kidnapping you. Stay still or I’ll clean your plow for real."

Shoei tried to squirm, but other than wiggling like a fresh picked worm, he couldn’t really move. The fever had weakened him too much to compete against Tora’s strength. He went slack over his friend’s shoulder and sulked, arms crossing over his chest in a silent protest.

Kidnapping him? Really?

It was so ridiculous that Shoei began to laugh. It started silent, then bubbled up in his throat until he couldn’t take it anymore: he loudly snickered, legs trembling against Tora’s chest. Fresh tears fell from his eyes and left a shiny trail on the floor - he couldn’t be angry, not when he was so lucky to be kidnapped by the only gentle-wannabe-rustler of the country.

If his plan was to become an ace-high criminal or a legendary gunslinger, Taketora wasn’t ever going to succeed.

But it was fine, really - he already aced the hearts of those he was fond of.


	2. Dolly Blue(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two take the long way through a valley! Their values clash and most notably, we get more of Tora's increasingly fitting gay panic (＾▽＾)
> 
>  **Warning** for consensual non-sexual spanking.

Tora was used to waking up without Calico at his side. While they would sometimes sleep alongside each other, his companion had the habit of rising shortly before the sun and getting to work immediately. Tending to the horses, putting away their things, masking their traces: he did all that in silence, mindful of Tora’s sleepy state.

These last couple of days had taken a completely different pace. 

Taking the long way through the valley proved to be the right thing to do: lonely and calm, it allowed for peaceful mornings and lazy awakenings. Tora stretched his arm to his right, where Calico usually slept through these humid nights, to grab him and bask in his body heat for a while more… but found nothing. His hand patted the bedroll all over, finding it empty and cold.

Just as he was ready to sit up and look for his companion, the rhythmic striking of Calico’s laundry beater echoed up from the river. Of course - it was just past dawnbreak and he already got to work. _Old habits die hard._ Tora wasn’t going to complain: it was only thanks to Calico if he was still able to rag proper.

Nobody ever taught him how to wash his clothes, so he had little patience for that tedious task and a great admiration for whoever cleaned them by doing more than rinsing the fabric in warm water. First his mother, then the kind hands of his occasional older lovers, and now there was Calico to fill out that chore.

Tora had had his difficulties in believing that Calico was an actual launderer until he saw him doing his job. Watching his partner take care of the washing was calming, a quasi religious experience: Calico would boil the fabric in water and ash, squeeze dirt out of the linen, patiently beat their laundry until he could rinse it properly, and he would do it with an almost sad expression that meant that he was concentrating on the task.

Maybe it reminded him of home, wherever his home was? Tora had no way of knowing. Getting a word of his past out of that odd fish was like getting milk out of mares.

Sometimes Calico eyed the soap with longing and hope, but they only had one bar each to wash themselves and couldn't use it for laundry. If only they weren’t always on the run, Calico would have made soap himself, but they lacked both the time and the salt. Maybe Tora would buy some bars when they were closer to a town, maybe he’d buy starch even, but for now Calico had taken the habit of filling an old flask with the wood ash that he found in the morning and call it a day.

Resourceful, just like Tora liked them.

  
  


Tora sat where he could see the riverbank below, catching Calico’s slender figure kneeling on a rock. His friend was naked, bent to scrub the dirt away from a shirt laying on his little wooden washboard. _What a launderer_ \- he didn’t have one with him before meeting Tora, so they had to trade for it alongside a worn laundry beater that wasn’t the thickest, but that would still do its job. Calico had taken it with gratefulness, but evidently, he would have worked better with something weightier for their heavy denim. Taking a dollie with them would have been an useless hassle, so the paddle had to do. 

Watching his partner rinse that piece of clothing with such care would have made Tora sleepy under different circumstances, but the way light reflected on Calico’s wet skin made him incredibly alert. Tora wished he could be closer to catch the flex of his friend’s arms, to watch as his slender fingers would tighten against the fabric, to run a hand over his back and try to decipher the little white scars that were still there from his mysterious past. It’s not that they had never seen each other naked, but Calico tended to protect his modesty a lot when he knew that someone could watch him, curling in himself to subtly hide as much skin as possible. A shame, really.

...was it?

Was he spying on his friend like a creep?!

Tora's hands slapped on his face to cover it from the world. No, it wasn't like he was watching a girl bathing, it had to be different, Tora could very well see that Calico's wasn't the body of a woman, no matter if he had little hair or if his chest was rosy and delicate- it was still as flat as a board! Girls weren't as tall and they did not have that kind of voice - not that his voice was bad, sure, on the contrary it was very soothing, but the point was another: Tora wasn't doing anything bad. It was like watching a cat lick his fur, or even better, _guarding_ said cat. Yes, that was it. What if something bad happened? Nobody would be there to protect Calico if he was truly alone.

Tora took his hands off his eyelids and opened them. His partner was still there, unbothered, washing his hair with leftover ash while kneeling besides a heap of clothes that still needed rinsing. His back arched more as he lowered himself to dip his head in the running water, a strong grip on the rock, hips tilting upwards...

"Gah-!" Tora jolted, prompted by a foreign huff breathed on the side of his neck. That damned horse-! He caught the hat in time and brought it to chest, pressing it on his racing heart. "You should mind your business, Nose Parker!" Tora snarled at Calico’s horse: old, slow, and a puddin’ foot too. What did he want now? Grain? _Water?_

Well, there surely was plenty of fresh water down at the river. Tora reluctantly eyed the bag that was resting at the foot of the bedroll, but another glance at the riverbank gave him enough motivation to give in and throw it in the empty bucket.

Hopefully taking a dip to clean off the night’s sweat was a good idea. 

* * *

It was a whole different frame from the usual: the water was of a deep green, plenty and calm, and when trees so tall were around, life buzzed with a whole new intensity that Tora couldn't ignore. Even breathing felt somewhat special by the river and he instinctively looked back, in the direction from which they came. Long days, _entire months_ spent traveling only to stumble here, so far from other people and yet closer than ever to their goal.

Tora smirked to himself as he stepped down the pointy rocks that lead to the riverside. They weren't exactly a comfortable path, but somehow they did resemble stairs: one after the other, Tora walked his slow and steady way to-

“Careful!”

He stopped at once, wide eyes looking ahead where Calico was sitting on the rocks. It was the loudest he ever heard his mostly silent friend, so Tora looked around carefully for any animal - or human - wanting to pouch on him… finding none. “What?” He shouted back.

Calico loudly tapped the rock at his side to signal for the word, so that Tora would direct his attention to the steps he was taking: ahead of him rested a flat rock, the most secure-looking of all, and Tora only had to nudge it with the sole of his boot to notice how it wobbled, threatening to flip entirely under the weight of a man.

Hell, he really risked to tumble down that slope and split his head open on the jagged rocks, uh? Maybe that place was not the desert, but that didn’t mean he could look at the sky and enjoy the view, after all.

  
  


...but what if he still wanted to try?

Because he really, really needed to understand what was up with Calico sitting there looking pretty, gaze far on the foliage of the opposite bank. His legs were free to dangle in water and of course, he had stretched one of the clean shirts over his lap to cover it.

Even after Tora was far past the point of clean, he remained in water and rested his chin on a rock next to his partner. They weren’t actually traveling, the current was gentle and soothing, and ages had passed since he had time to scrub a good layer of dirt off of his skin… there was no need to rush, right? Tora could lay back and enjoy the view. 

The view being Calico himself.

For once he was not covering his chest or back in weird ways, just… just being there. Breathing slowly, occupied in God knew what thoughts, stark naked and immobile even if their little amount of clothes had already been rinsed. It was beginning to get strange: at that point, his friend would usually hum under his breath, move, work on something, but this time he didn't. And Tora would have said “finally!”, he would be glad to see him rest, if only Calico wasn’t so tense: it was in the way he was gripping the rock under him, in how he didn’t dare move his legs, in the goosebumps rising over his arms… There was something strange with that, and Tora almost slapped himself when he realized that it could have been his fault. Was Calico embarrassed by his presence? Was he waiting for him to go away so that he could dress? Worse, what if he had noticed the way Tora had been watching him from the cliff?!

A criminal, a feared opponent and a whole other lot of legendary things Tora wanted to be remembered as did not have to make his partner catch a cold - especially not when he already got a fever so recently. 

Tora rushed to get out of the water and dry himself. “It’s better if I go now, your old thing up there is thirsty…” He curtly commented, hopping on still half-wet legs to shove them down his underpants.

“You mean, Maurice?” Calico timidly asked, following the other’s movements with his eyes.

 _Maurice_ \- Tora cringed at that name. Calico’s horse was old, clumsy, nosy and named like his great great uncle, too. “Yes, Maurice,” he leaned down to fill the bucket with water, “your old thing.”

Calico’s shoulders visibly deflated in relief when Tora started buttoning his shirt. “Uh, tell him I said hi...” He averted his eyes, too… So, his theory was correct?

Tora ignored the red wave coloring his face and only focused on getting on his trousers and boots as fast as possible, then he threw the bag with the soap over his shoulder and grabbed the full bucket. “See ya on top…!” He smiled, albeit half-heartedly, and began to walk away while the crunch of gravel filled that chilling silence.

It really was him. 

It really was him and the fact that they were naked. 

It really was him and the fact that they were naked and that he was just a creep, that no real legend would have acted like that, and- was Calico starting to despise his presence, maybe? It wasn’t the first time he had threatened Tora to part ways. Well, last time was when he wanted to pay the doctor, the other when Tora stole a calf and they didn’t have anything to make the poor thing eat…

All in all, Calico really deserved better than tailing after him. His partner worked so hard only to be rewarded with meals at most, when in reality he would have deserved an actual pay. If only they didn’t have to budget every step they took, then Tora would have showered him in gold for his royalty and good heart. It wasn’t just having a travel companion, Calico was now a brother and a mother and a _friend_ , and if Tora could not offer money, then the least he could do was affording the decency of an apology.

The bucket crunched on the gravel and he turned, shooting a glance to the rocks where Calico was sitting - but what he saw was not right. 

It was not the same Calico he was used to nor the unconscious, feverish one. 

The Calico sitting by the river was teary eyed and looking down at his bare lap, where a red, still bleeding cut had scarred his thigh. The shirt that was covering his legs was now balled in his fist, exposing the side that previously pressed on the wound and the scarlet red stain that it left behind.

Calico was not _tense_.

Calico was in pain, and he had been for the whole morning.

It suddenly made sense and at the same time, did not make sense at all.

* * *

Getting blood out of a shirt was too much work anyway, so Tora gripped one of its shoulders with his teeth and ripped the sleeve to wrap it tightly around Calico's thigh. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, irritation surging in his voice as he adjusted that makeshift bandage.

The knot's pressure digging in his skin made Calico wince. "There was no need." 

_There was no need, it doesn't hurt, it's not deep._ Calico rotated between these three lines and Tora was really close to losing his cool. "It's a cut, and it's bleeding." He interjected for the nth time, "How? Did you trip on the flat rock when you were getting here?"

His partner looked down at his legs and nodded. It wasn't difficult to picture how it went: between the clothes and all the stuff he brought with him to wash them, Calico didn't even notice where his feet were landing. But why act like nothing happened?!

"You should have called for me."

"My voice is low." He simply stated.

That was a lie. If he had found the voice to shout at Tora, then he could have found it to call his name when he fell, too. That damned set of rocks was just under the cliff they were sleeping on, and if Tora could hear his friend beating the laundry by the river, then he would have heard his call for help-

He immediately stopped that train of thoughts to look at Calico, then at the clothes behind him, and his eyes widened with even more confusion. "...you sliced open your thigh and then? Then what did you do?"

Calico's eyes were again full of tears, but none fell. "I-" he hesitated for a moment, "I did my job."

" _Your job_?"

"I washed myself and the cut stopped bleeding, so I… I did the laundry."

It was so logic that it sounded downright stupid. Calico’s mind worked on eight different things at once, one more ridiculous than the other, but when it came to work he acted like a soldier. Tora could not understand him one bit. What was next? Breaking his arm and using it to beat the clothes? 

"Then why didn’t you come up when you were done? What were you waiting for, to catch another fever?!" 

The answer should have been among the lines of _“certainly not for you to come”_ , since Calico seemed to have done his best to not alert Tora, but the world really was full of surprises: his partner took his sweet time pondering about an acceptable response, maybe another one of his clever omissions, until he finally concluded that there was no use. He didn’t talk this time; with a pained face, he lifted his knees out of the water and bit his lip when his feet made contact with the gravel.

"Oh goodness." Was the only comment Tora gave when he saw the purplish mark around Calico’s right ankle. Was that why he couldn’t move from there? Was he keeping the injury in cold water to calm the pain? Tora delicately took hold of Calico’s calf with a hand and examined his slim ankle with the other, digging with his pointer and thumb just slightly. “Can you move it?” At that, Calico nodded and proceeded to show his friend. Tora sighed in relief. "It's only a sprain, but it's best if you don't walk on it. Where did you put your dry clothes? I'm not letting you catch a cold today..." Looking behind them, he couldn’t find any. The washboard, the laundry beater, the bucket, Calico’s knife… "So, your clothes?" Tora asked again with a whine, already suspecting the answer.

"I washed them too..." _Of course,_ "I g-got confused and washed them..."

Confused was not the word Tora would have used. His poor friend was probably panicking at that point, working his body to remain grounded and not feel pain, so he couldn’t fault him. Tora just sighed and started to unbutton his own shirt. "Have this-"

Calico grabbed his wrist to stop him. "No, I'll wait for mine to dry."

They held each other’s stare in silence until Tora pushed his partner’s hand away. "They won't be dry until tonight. You want to sit here naked until then? Catch another fever while you're at it?"

"It's fair punishment."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

Calico began shaking. He extended a lanky arm in the direction of their pile of clothes and fished for a pair of jeans. "Your- your only pair-” He pointed at one of its legs, sliced open by his fall on the jagged rocks, “It got tore-"

"Calico,"

His voice dripped with urgency. "We can't mend it!"

"I don't care."

"The boots you lent me, too, they came unglued all the way-"

"I don't care!"

The tears that until then were only idly swirling in Calico’s eyes streamed down his face at once. Before his friend could even realize that he was crying, Tora opened his arms and hugged him tight. He kept him close, warming the cold skin on his back with gentle rubs, holding him through the violent hiccups that shook his body. 

"You saphead." Tora murmured against his temple, "It's fine. I'm pissed that you got hurt, not that some pants tore."

"But- but you will have to pay for new ones-"

"Nah, I can live without ‘em." He shushed Calico’s sobs and combed his fingers through the dark, messy mop of curls that were on his nape. "I can't live without you, though."

If possible, Calico cried harder at that admission.

Tora did not realize what _exactly_ he had said until it was too late to take it all back. "Fuck, I mean-" He groaned, face growing hotter by the minute, "I kidnapped you once, and I'll do it again, and- it's not because you do your job. It's because I need you to be happy and safe."

Tora took his shirt off all the way, keeping his eyes blind to that naked, sniffling being kneeling before him. Dressing Calico and trying to button the shirt with closed eyes was difficult, but he wasn’t about to disrespect his friend by taking a peek of what was between his legs, no sir, not even on accident this time. He just awkwardly patted Calico’s chest to guess if the shirt was all buttoned, then turned and pointed at his own back. “Up, come on. You will rest all day and I won't hear complaining."

Sure enough, Calico was too tall to fit as comfortably as Tora’s little sister did on his back, but they managed to find their balance with little fuss. Calico kept his cheek pressed on his partner’s bare shoulder, tickling the tanned skin with his slow breathing. For once all of his stubborn fight was gone, as if he had cried it away. 

"The water for Maurice…" He mumbled as they passed past the bucket.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll come down again later. Your old thing won’t die of thirst."

"Taketora?" Calico’s voice was muffled, now. "You won't punish me for our clothes?" It did not sound like a real question: he knew that Tora would not do it, so the missing piece was _why_.

Tora leaned his head against his partner’s. “It’s not that.” He said, stopping in front of the rocks that would have brought them on the cliff. “I'll punish you alright for not giving a damn about yourself, **not** for a bloody shirt or a pair of jeans."

“I don’t understand you.” Calico whispered.

“Me neither,” his partner whispered back, “we’re even on that.”

* * *

"Did it happen often, that you ruined somebody else's clothes?"

The last embers creaked lightly in the dark, occasionally reignited by the warm breeze coming from south. It was silent - the only sound being the peaceful, white noise that was the river. It covered most of the animals but the occasional soft hooting of a mourning dove.

It was pointless to ignore the question: there was no way that Calico hadn’t heard it. He pointed at himself and cocked his head to the side, questioning Tora who groaned in response, "No, Maurice. Of course I’m asking you!"

His partner snickered, then looked up at the sky as if the bright stars could give him clues. He held one finger up… no, he raised another and nodded. _Two._

"And what happened when you did?" Evidently Tora wasn’t getting an answer to that, because immediately after, Calico threw his back on the ground and ignored him - as he always did. If he could have evaded bullets like he did with questions, then he would have been immortal.

"So… uh… you worked hard." Tora prompted again; and again he got rejected when his partner rolled to the side and out of his sight. "Hey, I'm trying to understand you here!" Tora protested, a huff leaving his pouty lips. Was Calico allergic to conversation? He could not know, but one thing was for sure: if Tora did not open up, then neither would his friend. It was time to try some other approach, a sycho… pseudo… psyno... 

Screw that, trying to spell the word was already giving him a headache.

"I did not grow up poor. When I felt sick, or when I didn't want to leave the house, I would just not do it." Tora mumbled, spying for Calico’s reaction. Still nothing. "My mother's husband wanted me to study, but I was not good at anything. I insisted that my sister did instead and then got the hell out of there."

Somehow, at the mention of his sister, Calico rolled near him again. They looked at each other - and as Tora was about to ask something else, Calico preceded him. "Do you miss your family?"

Tora hesitated: if he could send a brief wish to the stars, it would be for his sister to be happy, but Akane alone unfortunately did not count as the whole family. “No.” He said with confidence, “Maybe at first, but I was prepared to go away. It was not my place. Why, do you miss yours?”

"No." His partner did not hesitate.

“Of course not,” Tora scoffed, “you had to do _your job_ no matter if you were injured.”

"Accidents happen."

"Accidents call for more accidents." He got up and reached for the two kerosene lamps - they would need both, tonight. "Back home you'd have gotten whooped for something like that, not praised."

Tora’s words were still bitter from what happened that morning. Thinking about Calico getting injured was one dark, horrible thing; realizing that he had crawled to the river bank with a cut on his side and a sprained ankle, probably doing multiple trips to get the clothes he lost along the way… 

Tora placed the lamps a little too forcibly at the corners of their patched-up teepee.

 _Doing his job._ Calico was not employed to him, yet every time, he still put Tora’s interest ahead of his own health. Sometimes it wasn’t even his interest, no, it was some weird and ancestral call to please that Tora hated with all of his heart. When he emerged from the tent, his resolve was clearer than ever - he had thought about what to do all day, now he just had to find the words. 

"I won't argue with you anymore. Starting tonight-" he bit back the hesitation by thinking of all the times Calico overworked without letting out a peep, of his sprained ankle, of the almost-deathbed at the doctor’s house. Tora had only threatened him until now, but if they couldn't settle it with words… "Starting tonight, I'll bend you over my knee every time you put time or money before yourself. We need rules around here before you end up a goner."

It was near impossible to faze his partner, so when Tora caught sight of Calico’s confused expression, he immediately worried about having overstepped. "Isn't it for children…?" His friend timidly asked. It was hard to guess in the semi-dark, but he was blushing. 

Darn, _was it?_ When Tora still lived with his mother, he got a good hard whooping from her at least once a month yet he had stopped being a child long before. His mother's hairbrush got him out of bad habits like nothing could, so it was obvious that he would think about applying the same to his partner. 

A good spanking might have helped. If it didn’t, then he could say that at least he tried.

Tora cleared his voice. "It's about discipline, Calico, and I wouldn't want to do it, but you need to get out of that head of yours. I can't afford losing you. I've been telling you in six different languages and you still don't wanna listen." He crouched near his partner and gently took his hand in his. Deciphering his expressions was hard, but it needn't be a genius to understand that Calico was not pleased. "Will you let me?"

That question got his friend even more confused. His brow furrowed with the weight of thinking, but for all the guilt he carried on his shoulder, Calico couldn’t confidently say no. "Why would I have a say?"

"Maybe you didn't when you worked for someone else, but don't try to compare me to whoever these lappers were."

Calico hummed and looked down at their hands, then up again in the dark of Tora’s eyes. "Will it help?"

Tora’s shoulders deflated. "Only if you let me help." He admitted, sincere.

His awkward honesty seemed to do it: Calico swung an arm over his shoulder so that he could have help hopping to his feet, then nodded in the tent’s direction. “I’m guilty of what I did.” He said, holding tightly on Tora’s shirt. “And I’m not going to pretend that I don’t trust you.”

  
  


“Not your first time?” Tora patted his partner’s back. A bit of convincing had to take place to make Calico drop his underpants, but when it came to draping himself over Tora’s left thigh, he did it with grace and dignity. The same dignity that prevented him from answering that question, it seemed.

Tora rolled up his sleeves with shaky fingers. There was no way to deny it, he was nervous. Punishing someone was a concept so far from him: either he didn’t care enough to act or he simply struggled to keep his gun cold, there was no in between. Well, until then.  
That was… different. It _had_ to be.

He glanced at Calico’s legs, uncomfortably crossed over the blankets. “Does your ankle hurt like this?” Although paler, the bruise was still there, but Calico answered his question with a muffled no. Tora placed a hand over his hip to keep him pinned in place, then reached to undo the knot that was still tied on the underside of his partner’s thigh: the bandage they changed that afternoon was clean, so he sighed in relief and put it aside.

Enough stalling, there was nothing else to do but to act now.

His hand slapped down on the milky skin and poor Calico jolted at the impact; judging from the rapid speed at which the outline of his fingers was reddening, Tora spanked too hard. A million of voices told him that yes, that was his call to stop and call it a day, and another million argued that he couldn’t say sorry and chicken out now - Tora had to shut them all up with a shake of his head to try another time, lighter and more careful of what he was doing. He felt Calico tensing under the spankings, but the light of the lamps told him all that he needed to know.

“Again, I’m not spanking you because of the ruined clothes.” He had no time to rehearse the lecture, but somehow he felt like there was no need. “I’m not angry, I’m concerned.” 

Tora stopped focusing on the center of his partner’s rear to space out the blows, testing what felt softer and what made Calico squirm. It felt oddly scientific when he targeted the crest of his bottom to deliver three hard spanks after the other, “This is for not calling for help when you got hurt.” Tora said, careful of Calico’s squirming when he landed another three on the opposite side. “This, for deciding to get to work with injuries. What if you slipped and fell in water? What if your sprain worsened, did you think about it?”

It was a “no” that Calico would not speak. His thighs trembled a bit under the effort of keeping as still as possible, because Tora’s palm wasn’t kind: naturally wide and hardened from work, it brought the point across far too well. “I don’t want you to ever hide an injury from me again. I don’t care if you think it’s nothing serious,” he lectured, spank after spank adding and piling on one other, but his voice did not falter. It was as gentle as always. “I can help you, and I will help you.” It sounded like a promise and when he looked back, he found Calico nodding along to the words. 

It wasn’t long until his hand began to sting. While Calico’s skin was now turning pink, they were far from done - making Tora suddenly wish he had his mother’s hairbrush with him.  
Was that what happened when one became an adult? Yearning for an implement he wished would burn in flames only a couple of years earlier? 

The pause lasted little. Tora rubbed his partner’s hip while looking around the tent, where he immediately spotted the washing board sitting at a short distance from Calico’s head. “Hey?” Tora patted his bottom in what he hoped would be encouragement, “Hand me that laundry beater of yours, would you?”

Calico flinched at the question. He looked ahead of him, then back- “Tora…” He whined, blanket wrinkling under his hands. 

“Do you want me to use my belt instead?” Tora did not mean to make it a threat; even though it was an actual question, Calico got queasy immediately and shook his head no, the final little push for him to grab the laundry beater and hand it to his partner.

Quite small, not heavy, unfortunately perfect for the job. “Thank you.” He tapped it on Calico's rear and recoiled when he heard him whine again, only to recognize the sound: it was the same annoyed grumble he made when Tora uncapped his whiskey flask. His partner patiently ignored it and gave tentative little taps with the paddle, making sure to weigh the blow before letting it fall.

Tora could sadly confirm that the sound of wood on skin was always the same. His stomach twisted when he heard Calico suck in a breath; Tora hated it with all his might, but it was meant to hurt.

Better do it once and do it well than having to repeat the lesson multiple times.

"Where were we? Right," Other smacks fell as he was talking, giving enough time after each blow for Calico to take them. "You could have told me that you washed your dry clothes, I would have brought you a blanket. Why didn't you do that at least?"

"I didn't-" Calico suppressed a whine, "I didn't want to bother you…"

Oh, Tora hated how believable that lie was. He pressed his left hand on Calico's pinkened skin and pulled it taut, exposing the paler underside to land multiple blows there. His partner’s yelps didn’t stop him this time: when he was done, Tora mirrored the same treatment to the other side, too. "You didn't want to bother me when you tried to hide your sprain, too?"

"I'm sorry!" Calico sighed, and that was a first, "I thought I could walk on it-" An harsher blow cut off his voice.

"No, tell me the truth."

"Tora-"

" _Please._ "

The urgency in his friend’s voice made Calico squirm. “I-” His knees dug on the blanket, as he was trying to find his voice under the wool, "I thought you'd get mad at me."

There it was, he expected it - such a simple confession that broke Tora anyway. 

"Calico, I need you to listen now. I know that my temper is sour milk, but- but I'm not like whoever employed you before." He swore, bringing a hand over Calico’s back to caress the tension away. "You're my friend first, then my partner and aide. I would never get mad at you because you got hurt." Sadness seeped in his voice, no matter how much he tried to keep the blue feeling at bay, "I would rather go down and kick that rock until it bleeds than take it out on you."

That got a little chuckle out of Calico, and Tora couldn’t help but ruffle his hair in affection. It was still time to return to the task at hand, but when his hand moved away from Calico’s curls, his friend called for him. "Tora-" He said the name with urgency, making him stop mid-swing, "I'm sorry. I also did not want to make you sad. You got so sad when we were at the doctor's, and I did not want to see you like that again."

Tora would have argued that he wasn’t sad, that he never ever was in his life, but it was pointless when his heart clenched so tight at that confession. "Stop worrying about me when you're the one who's hurt." He scolded, or at least he tried to, before dishing out four well placed swats. "Standing there naked was a stupid move.” The paddle traveled south, grazing the top of Calico’s thighs, “You could have gotten a cold or worse, another nasty fever, _and then what?"_ His friend’s yelps grew louder as the laundry beater only hit faster, not leaving him reprieve, "Where was I supposed to buy medicine, then?" 

Calico’s sobs filled the tent. He gasped for air even as Tora stopped, putting down the laundry beater to rub the sting pulsing on his partner’s bottom. "You wanted to punish yourself over something so useless, Calico, and you only risked doing more damage. Don't do that ever again. Talk to me." With these words, Tora rested his hand over the colder skin of Calico’s thigh. Asking to talk to someone who rarely answered questions… Tora already felt guilty for all the words he was forcing out of him during that punishment.  
"Or I don't know, if you don't want to use words then at least let me know if something's wrong…?"

Calico just hummed as an answer, the littlest whimper following it, and Tora wished he could let him go there and then, that he could redress him and pull him into a hug, but Calico needed to feel the lesson for at least another day, for the pain to overlap with the words - Tora knew it from experience.

He almost wanted to apologize, but decided it was best not to: they had both agreed to that. Tora nodded to himself and silently picked up the laundry beater to begin spanking again - a lower pace, a lower intensity, just to make the most out of it. "It's not only about yourself." He calmly explained, pressing his firm hand on Calico’s lower back to make sure he wouldn’t thrash as he picked up a rhythm, "You are free to not give a damn about me and what I think, but if you were to get harmed only to save some time and money, I-" 

_I would be devastated. I would blame myself._ Just like he did that morning, when he was convinced that his sun had died before his eyes.

"I wouldn't know how to take it." He half lied.

The laundry beater fell at their side, sound muffled by the blanket. It was enough. Sniffling and with his bottom sore and red, Calico emptied his eyes for the second time that day. "You're not worth the job you do for me, you're worth as a whole-" Tora said, choking on his own voice because _fuck_ , he wanted to cry too, now. "I'm sorry if I didn't let you understand it earlier."

"No- you did- you did!" Calico was hesitant, but when he met no resistance from his friend’s hand, he got up on his knees and hurried to grab Tora’s shirt. The two looked at each other, finding the same tears both in amber and charcoal. When he noticed it, Calico closed the distance and hugged Tora. "That's why I did not want to displease you… you're so kind to me… I used to work hard for people that I didn't like, but I like you so much-" his voice withered there. When he felt Tora wipe tears away from his face, Calico only squeezed harder. “Don't cry.” He pleaded, a feeble whisper in his ear.

"I never do." Tora chuckled, making sure to hug him tighter too, "Did you understand your lesson?"

"Hurts."

"Is it a no?"

"It's a yes." One hand left Tora’s back to rub at his sore bottom; poor thing, it was the second time Tora had seen him like that and he already never wanted to witness it again. He wanted Calico to smile, to hum strange tunes, to talk of little things when the silence was too heavy, and Tora wanted to give him all the soap he wanted, all the dried meat he liked, a comfortable bed, new boots. He wanted to give him the world.  
If only they could remain on that cliff and be happy...

Tora sulked in thought. "We should plan a heist. Do you think they have a bank in the next town?"

"No.” Calico whined, the same sound he made when his partner uncapped the flask of whiskey. “Risky."

"In a brothel? There's good money in these places."

His partner stopped rubbing his bottom only to slap his hand as sharply as he could on Tora’s rear.

"Hey-!" He huffed, "I guess that's a no."

"We should find actual jobs..."

"Boring."

Calico looked at his friend with his eyebrows scrunched in displeasure, but he did not resist much longer and they both began laughing. "You’re right-" He said, drying the rest of his tears on the cuffs of his shirt. 

Tora lied on his back, watching as Calico continued the mindless rubbing even with his underpants on. "Oh boy, it won't go away like that. You'll have to sleep on your stomach." He said, then did a number out of getting off his belt and boots without moving his legs too much. Tora was spent, done, wasted: he did all that Calico usually did in his place, and almost did not survive. Dishing out a spanking, too, was way more energy consuming than he thought. "Turn off the lamps, please?" He practically begged.

Calico was probably as tired as he was, but he patiently turned off the wicks. When dark descended and the blankets rustled, even the white noise of the river seemed distant.  
Tora’s eyelids got heavier in seconds. Just as he thought that sleep would finally swallow him, a warm weight dropped on his chest. "Wha-" He flushed so hot that he could light up the tent: was… was Calico on him…? An arm and a leg swung over his body, half the rest leaning on top of him- it's not that they did not sleep together, but that usually happened in the deep of the night-

"I'm sleeping on your stomach." Whispered his partner.

"A-ah- okay- that's fa- fair. Fair, I meant. That's fair."

Calico’s body trembled over him, shook by the purest snickering Tora had ever heard. He should have been pissed, he should have been furious that he made such a fool of himself, but... he simply wasn't. It was payback, after all.

With a grunt, he held Calico over his chest as a way to sustain his weight. It would have bene a shame if he was to roll off of him in the middle of the night.

After all, that was going to be a long night for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, that was a long one! I'm confident I edited it at the best of my possibilities, but I'd like to make you aware that the last segment was written between three and four in the morning. I'm still high from that, whew.
> 
> As always, it'd be lovely to hear from you- especially since you made through the end! (๑•͈ᴗ•͈)  
> Hoping to update soon with more of their soft love,  
> Cain  
> ((Xoxoxo))

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy pardners!  
> Thank you so much for reading! You can always leave a comment or any kind of feedback (pigeons are welcome too!), it'd make my day (*^▽^*)
> 
> Xoxoxo,  
> Cain


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